ii.blowing through me andcatching in my chest-spin, build, stir, brushup next to the harsher parts of me,hardly internal, that bruiseslowly the vulnerable in others;erode both façade and truthsthat should not be trueand leave me human, only.

iii.sweep my skin as you passand glassy eyes go dry and askdo you feel? yes; less:heavy and penurious and pressedhollowed now and thirstingfor movement, to bedrowned in another's depth, tobe full and stillfilled more, for foreign handsand minds and a certain kind of alone, for an expanse within,to be gradual in gain, suddenin knowing, to be wind.